


Crossfire

by gothicghost



Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: All the hermits - Freeform, Battle, Blood and Injury, Mycelium Resistance, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Whump, hep - Freeform, hermitcraft s7 - Freeform, idk yet, permadeath?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:35:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27812377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothicghost/pseuds/gothicghost
Summary: The Mycelium Resistance and the H.E.P. Team have declared war. Things escalate, battle breaks out, and the hermits forget who they were before. At least, until someone on standby, someone each of the hermits loves and considers their friend, is caught in the crossfire.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	1. Iskall's Perspective

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! I just want to take a moment and say, this is my first ever fic in the Hermitcraft fandom. Any criticism is okay! I also want to remind you: the hermits are in fact real people, and they are friends. The fact that a good handful of hermits had to say to not let things get out of hand is really troubling! Hermitcraft is fun, and full of amazing people. It sucks that things blow up and people become toxic. Please just know that it is all just a game, and a fun story line. :)

"Go, go, GO!" Iskall pushed the hermits underground, holding the vault door open. He was no master a vaults, by any means of the words. But he had known enough redstone and had helped Mumbo so often that he was able to build one. This was meant to be for his diamonds and extra material in case he ever needed to make a repair. The vault lead into the basement of his Omega redstone shop, and smelled just as dusty as the day he built it. He counted the civilian hermits as they silently pushed in, some holding hands or covering their mouths as the sobbed. Scar had declared war on the Mycelium resistance, and the world was beginning to boil with tension. For two straight days, Iskall, Cleo, and Joe Hills had been grinding resources. Food, water, travel beds, lanterns, furnaces, potions, crafting tables, anything seen as a necessity, was hastily packed into shulker boxes and pushed to the back of the vault. They knew it was a good idea to go under cover, at least until things died down. There was enough space for each civilian member with a bed, but it was still slightly cramped. Out loud and rushed, he counted. Someone was missing.

Spinning around, Iskall kicked a stone over to hold the door open. Behind him, the sky was beginning to fall asleep, as peaceful as it normally had. As if things were normal again. He ducked around the corner of the Omega shop to see who was trailing behind. He took note of Tinfoil Chef's scraggly grey beard as he limped towards Iskall. The swede went over and took Chef by the arm and hoisted his weight so much that there was less pressure on the injured leg. 

"I took a bit of a fall," breathed Chef. 

"You're okay. It's okay. The vault is just around the corner. There's food and a healing potion in there, and a bed." Joe stood at the door, holding his arm out for Chef to take as he stepped underground. Wels stepped up right as Iskall was beginning to close the door on them. 

"Where are you going?" 

"I need to go let Scar and Grian both know that you guys are secured." The hermits all began to protest, that the communicators will work just fine. Iskall just shook his head. "No, he wants to hear me personally, in case someone had gotten a hold of us in order to prompt the fight."

"At least let someone go with you, just in case. I can go! You know I'm all about those heads," Cleo offered.

"I'm literally a knight."

"I've won at least two PvP fights!"

Many of them offered their services. It wasn't that the Hermits supported one side or the other. Most of them were neutral, and had purposefully not joined. They had felt the tension and wanted nothing to do with it, hoping that it would just blow over like other disputes had in the past. However, it seemed like the tension rose anyways. They all began to mutter again, but Iskall only shook his head. He knew that neither Grian nor Scar wanted any civilians to get hurt, but it was always good to be safe anyways. 

"It's safer and easier if I go alone. Besides I know the password. Joe, you can you help the Chef with his ankle? Beef, you can start cooking food. Wels and Cleo can guard. Remember the signal—"

"Four knocks for 'Let me in, I'm a friend,' anything else, just stay low" finished Wels. "If you're not back in an hour, though, I'm coming for you." Iskall nodded. He scanned over the faces of each of the hermits before giving a deep breath and turning to leave, making sure the vault closed all the way with a screech and a click. 

Iskall flipped his muddy green hood over his head and took to walking. He knew that his rockets and Elytra would attract too much attention to their location. Since the update, most paths had hidden soul sand anyways, and the beacons, while lit for now, had jump boost. It would not take him long to go from one end of the shopping district to the other. 

* * *

In fact, it didn't take him very long at all. maybe a half hour or so. In fact, he was almost to the Omega shop, had perhaps 10 minutes to walk when he heard fireballs fly above his head. From the other direction, the plucking of bows and the airy sound of arrows fly past his ear in multitudes. He started to run and pain shot through his abdomen, forcing him to the ground with a howl. 

Iskall laid there, grimacing. The sounds of arrows and who knows what else flying through the air echoed in his ears. Every breath pulled tightly on the puncture wound, causing faint grunts within each exhale. He tried to lift his arm to at least touch it, to gauge the urgency of the wound, but found that lifting his hand a mere couple of centimeters off the ground taxed him. The particles floating above his head, drifting from the base of the arrow lodged in his stomach into the night sky like an ill odor caused his heart to pound and his eyelid to drip. 

Weakness fell upon him, and he was bleeding. 


	2. How Things Went Bad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me for any mistakes regarding the timeline of the turf war. I am 100% going off of memory and so much has happened from the beginning of the season to now. Some parts are skipped over or not mentioned for time's sake. I imagine most people reading this are fairly caught up. Also, the latest episodes have really stirred up the whump cells in my brainhead ;) Like yeah I'm aware of what they are doing to dissolve the disagreement, but I'm here to write not follow the rules. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the story though!

BEFORE BATTLE

Scar had overwhelmingly won the mayoral election. So many hermits had voted for him and trusted him to make the shopping district into something gorgeous and pleasing to the eye. He had spent so many days digging up the mycelium and replacing the spores with seeds and grass. He really had put his famous terraforming skills into developing the landscape surrounding the mooshroom island as well as the town hall. And he ad received so many compliments and positive notes about what he had done!

Then someone thought it would be a good idea to re-introduce mycelium. It wasn't that big a deal. At first. Scar just patched up whatever had grown and went on with his day with a skip in his step, satisfied with his efforts. But, more mycelium was spreading and it came to a point when he couldn't handle it on his own, so he formed the Hermit Environmental Protection agency, or H.E.P. and that seemed to work for awhile. But someone had kept putting more mycelium back into the shopping district. Wasn't everyone satisfied? The hermits seemed to celebrate the sight of grass before. They were all happy, weren't they?

Then his diamond throne had been stolen, and all evidence pointed to the Mycelium Resistance. The entire throne! It was like it had just vanished. That had been the last straw. He had gotten it back before too long with the help of the H.E.P. members, but his anger hadn't subsided. He was the mayor after all. He had been elected by the hermits, and he had their best interest in his heart. After all the effort he had put into planning the roads, holding a mini-competition, decorating the district, and overall just organizing everything, and people were still unsatisfied, to the point to where they would cause this much chaos in the district. It was a disturbance to some of the people, who had spoken about their concerns, about the what-ifs, about the "what do you plan on doing" and the "will my shops be okay," all of which Scar would respond with a simple reassurance, even when he wasn't so sure himself. 

"The resistance is our enemy," Scar's voice called over the front steps of the town hall, a few months later. He tried to look as strong as he could, but that did not stop his hands from shaking. He had always been nervous about public speaking, but he had had enough of the back and forth pranks. "They poison our lands and directly disobey the rules set forth by everyone standing here today when you elected me as your mayor. I have tried my best to stay calm. I have been nothing but faithful. I have tried to relieve everyone here of your worries by fighting the resistance, but to no avail. After much thinking, I have finally come to a conclusion. Since our enemy shows no signs of stepping down, the only way to get rid of their shenanigans and disturbances is to beat them by battle. So today, I am declaring war with the Mycelium Resistance." 

* * *

"Scar just declared war," Stress typed into her communicator to the resistance. 

"What?" Grian responded. "On who?" 

"On the resistance." 

"Meeting now" - G 

The resistance members were teleported to the HQ. The emergency meeting button worked so well and had been a genius idea. Now was not the time to marvel at redstone mechanics, though. Grian glanced around at the worried faces that mumbled between eachother, some covered in bits of redstone, others with dirty hands from building. Then he looked at Stress, and nodded for her to share the news. With a sigh, she pushed her chair back and stood up. She rubbed at the edges of her cardigan sleeves like she did when she was anxious. 

"I'm not sure who all attended Scar's meeting today, but for those of you who didn't... Scar declared war on the Mycelium Resistance." She watched as realization fell on the hermits, their faces dropping. Several moments of silence passed, and Stress had sat down with her head in her hands. 

Grian stood once more and cleared his throat. 

"Listen, I know war is scary. The whole situation is scary. But, I think if we hold our heads up, and show Scar we aren't afraid, we can get through this. We have some of the most talented and the strongest members on our side that I am positive that this war will be won and done with within a few days. Okay?" He caught some nods, and some 'yeahs.' 

"It's about the principle," said Ren, quietly. 

"It's about sending Scar a message," Impulse agreed. Grian only grinned. 

"We will not be stopped. I will send Scar a letter asking for a date and the terms of battle. Stress can come with me. Doc, Etho, I am putting you at the head. Try to get as many resources, traps, armor, weapons, whatever you can think of as soon as possible. Jevin, go tell the uninvolved hermits that they must stay safe. I don't want anyone who isn't a part of this getting truly hurt. Everyone else, help Doc. Scar will then understand that, even while he is mayor, he cannot control everyone. Dismissed." 


End file.
